I Still Believe
by xoxfuzzycatxox
Summary: Hermione and Draco are filming a movie together. Feelings begin to awaken and after a near death experience they're unsure of their feelings. However,the situation complicates even more because someone wants Hermione dead. changed title frm webelongtogeth
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, except for the unfamiliar characters and plot.

**This story takes on an ulternate universe kinda thing, where Hogwarts doesn't exist, or voldy, or magic and all that.**

**CHAPTER ONE**:

"Hermione, Hermione!" Shutterbugs called, furiously clicking their cameras, trying to capture the beautiful, smart and multi talented singer/song writer and actress. Flashes of the familiar glows scintillated in her face and she offered a casual smile while she strode symmetrically down the red carpet toward the limo that awaited her. When she entered into the back, a sweet smell of caviar wafted beneath her nose, and once she settled in, she realized the stench was swirling in the entire car. She did not open the window for salubrious air or more smiles.

As the car began moving, her publicist, Joan, thrust a wine glass in her face, half filled with flourishing blood red wine.

"Here's to being single," she smiled through perfect teeth.

Hermione reluctantly took the glass but did not drink. She looked at the red liquid and for a brief moment imagined herself swirling uncontrollably in the ocean of its bitterness. She could almost feel the panic; the desperation and the longing to be saved brand her veins…

"You hide it so well," said Joan thoughtfully, gently twisting her wine glass. Her dark hair flowed over her shoulders, her dark eyes black with thought and her brown-toned skin glowing. "At this point I would probably be cracking and startin' up some drama."

"Hey, let's not talk about it," Hermione warned. "I'm through with it."

"Yeah," Joan replied, "but they're not."

Hermione shrugged. "I'm not worried about them."

After a brief silence Joan looked up at Hermione. "Aren't you?"

"That's what you're here for-to help me not worry about them." Hermione glanced at the tinted windows and saw building lights whiz by, creating a three-colored color wheel. The car was moving quite fast, but seating here felt like floating on air, yet the fluttery never reached the barriers of her soul. Her head whipped back and faced Joan, a smile tugging at her lips. "It's going to be fun being single, no?

Joan's brow rose.

"I don't dwell on the past. I have a busy schedule ahead of me and many more guys to date!"

Joan laughed. "Alright"

They sipped their wine simultaneously.

"Excited about tomorrow?"

"A bit nervous, really. This is my first huge project that I'm starring in beside an internationally known actor," Hermione responded. "It's definitely going to be interesting."

"Good luck and er…"Joan smirked, teasing, "don't get your head stuck in the clouds."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Hardly."

"Hmm…mmmh," said Joan skeptically. "He's pretty F.I.N.E."

Shaking her head, Hermione replied, " I'm not and won't be interested. I'll admit Draco Malfoy "has a face an angel will envy and a body that'll shame the gods"-quote, unquote, but, no."

The rest of the ride to the hotel was silent. When the limo finally stopped Joan hugged Hermione and added," Call me when you get there."

Hermione advanced into her hotel room and found all her bags packed and an outfit that consisted of DKNY jeans, Baby Phat tee, a warm jean jacket, a faux fur trench coat and strappy shoes on the white wooden rack. A small note was attached under the strappies:

_Boots are in Juicy string bag. Have fun and have a safe flight!_

-Love Mom.

Her mom was her stylist and her dad her manager. Hermione sighed.

She crumpled the note and tossed it into the bin then walked into the aroma-scented bathroom and washed off all her make up. She suddenly felt naked without it as she gazed at herself in the wide mirror. It had been her mask for the entire day.

Her fingers began untying her black chiffon dress, causing the material to slide off her smooth skin and crumple to the floor. She looked at her body in the mirror and her eyes began to tear. Her arms crossed against her chest as if shielding her from perverted eyes.

_What was wrong with her? What made her drive all of them away? Why wasn't she sexy enough for the men she had dated?_

_What the hell is the meaning of sexy anyway_? She thought, gently biting her lip. _What was wrong with being herself?_

Picking up the dress she walked back into the room and threw the dress on top of the Juicy string bag then grabbed her nightshirt and crawled into bed. She blinked away all traces of tears and sat up in bed glaring at her manicured fingers.

She wasn't ok; far from it. Each day her heard pounded with heartache ache and each time someone mentioned his name her mind rewound to that day, a day that had forever been etched on the walls of her mind and every cell that constructed her heart.

_I'll be ok,_ she whispered to herself, while switching off the lamp and sliding into the sheets. _It's just me, myself and I now._

_x.x.x.x_

Draco Malfoy descended a pair of carpeted stairs, exited out the door and advanced toward the private plane. Beside him was his stunning model girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson, sporting a _Versace_ tube dress and leopard print _Prada_ heeled sandals. Behind them were six stern-looking muscled bodyguards, marching confidently. From her peripheral vision, Pansy saw a curvy woman dressed in jeans, and –_was that a Baby Phat tee_? - advance her way with two bodyguards in tow. A gentle October breeze blew by causing the two strands of the woman's hair to gently fall back. Pansy's own hair tenderly tickled her neck.

"Granger is here," Pansy informed Draco, who's own white-blonde hair tussled unruly in the wind. His expression was calm and when he glanced at Hermione's advancing form, he retained that indifference.

"I can't believe she got the role and I didn't. The director must've been out of his rocker." After a few seconds she added, "I bet she slept with the director to convince him to lend her the role."

Draco's lips twitched a bit with a smile, but remained silent.

They reached the stairs and Draco dropped his bag in the hostess' arms. He retreated to the back with Pansy.

Hermione sat close to the front. She began pulling out her jean jacket because as she she'd walked pas the large mirror to her seat, she'd noticed her double D chest looked larger in the baby tee she had on. Top model, Pansy Parkinson, was about a C give or take and Hermione didn't want to give her the wrong impression flaunting her chest to her boyfriend, not that he'd be interested. Pansy was already furious for not receiving the lead role in this movie (or any role). She was a force to be reckoned with, both dangerously beautiful and just plain dangerous.

Hermione settled comfortably in the leather interior and a stewardess stepped up to offer her a beverage. She denied. Instead, her eyes scanned the décor in the plane and Hermione almost felt like royalty. There were furnishings of velvet, leather with accents of purple and silver. The entire interior seemed to be dipped in reds, golds, and creams, all touched up in an appealing décor.

_He definitely has money to splurge_, Hermione thought, thinking of his status.

Draco Malfoy was the son of the late Lucius Malfoy, owner of an international bank, two successful jewelry companies and had somehow managed to own a small, but significant share of _Louis Vuitton_. His mother, Narcissa Black, was a former top model who was worth quite a fortune herself, alone.

Draco had begun acting about a month and a half after his birth. He was now CEO and owner of his father's three companies-plus a small percentage of _LV_-, he had access to half his mother's fortune (after she dies) and had a fortune of his own. He was voted as the sexiest, richest and dangerous man on the entire planet. And was notorious for dating models. **Only.**

Yes, at the tender age of 25, Draco Malfoy was living a glorious and enviable life.

Shutting her eyes, Hermione allowed her head to fall back on the headrest and began massaging her temples._ God, everywhere I look_ _I'm surrounded by fabulousness_. Not that she didn't have a fabulous life of her own, but sometimes she felt second best to everyone else and she hated that feeling with a passion.

_I can't wait to arrive in Alaska._ That's where part of the movie, _Deceit_, was being filmed. _Maybe the cold will knock some sense into me and I'll stop bitching and moaning about nothing._

_O.Oooo_

As Draco sat glancing out the window, his fingers entwined with his sleeping girlfriends', he couldn't believe his rotten misfortune-for the thousandth time. Hermione Granger. She'd managed to seize the first lead role. _So what if she'd won an Oscar for best supporting actress? So what if she had great potential? She was a singer, for crying out loud! Her job was to lock her damn self in some studio, composing love-gone-wrong bullshit in the hopes of it becoming a hit. What the hell did she know about acting?_

He respected her only because she could hit the highest octave humanly possible and her voice was mind-blowing. That was nothing to ignore. However, when it came to acting, she didn't know shit! Her supporting role in "_If the Shoe Fits_…" hadn't been that great.

_Why the hell did I audition for this role again_? He asked himself, desperately trying to recall. _I have enough money to support my great, great-grandchildren!_

He inhaled, then exhaled slowly then looked ahead. All his movies had been box office hits and if this one did poorly because of Hermione's pitiful performance then there was going to be hell to pay, Draco vowed.

Seconds later he felt the plane gradually descend. The pilot voiced they'd be arriving in about fifteen or twenty minutes.

He ran his manicured fingers through his hair and involuntarily glanced outside. It was snowing. How the hell had he not noticed that?

_Whatever_, he thought almost smugly. _I trained for this. Welcome to Alaska. Let the show begin_.

Xo.xo

you like it?yes? no? tell me your opinions.

i mentioned Louis Vuitton and (duh) i don't own that. And the "if the shoe fits'' movie, ummm...i'm not sure if that's a reall movie or not. i was staring at my poster with this cute lil kitten trying own this large, hooker shoes(quite cute actually) and the title says "if the shoe fits.." so i thought, hell, why not make that the movie. and Deceit, i came up with that.

ENJOY!


	2. Chapter Two

When they arrived in Alaskathe land was vast. It elongated for miles, coated with mounds of snow. It was extremely frigid that with each breath you inhaled your lungs were parched with ice and you were left breathless. Fresh wintry snow had begun cascading not long ago.

A large 4x4 had come to pick them up and carry them to their destination. Forty-five minutes later it had become dark and they'd arrived at a ski lodge/resort. There were hotel-like buildings made of reddish brown wood that allowed the building to glow because of the few lights switched on. A small path snaked between the lodge, separating it from other various stores: a bar, a restaurant, and a gift shop. It resembled a small town.

"This heel is killing me," Pansy groaned as she walked toward the lodge in the snow.

"Serves you right for wearing those ridiculous boots," Draco replied. She was wearing mink heeled shoes that were clearly not made to walk long distance in snow that nearly escalated up to you knees.

"Oh, shut up, Draco. What would you know?" In outrage Pansy began stomping fast, almost falling head first, but managing to hold herself. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold and the designer hat, scar and gloves she wore seemed to be doing little justice.

"You'd think they'd at least shovel the snow before we arrived!" Hermione loudly voiced her thoughts, her diva persona taking over.

"Suck it up. You're not going to moan about this too, are you?" retorted Draco. "Did you think Alaska was a fancy term for hot springs?"

Hermione shot him a malevolent look. "Did you?"

"Might I remind you that we're going to be working in conditions like these?"

"I think that point made itself obvious the moment we stepped out of the plane."

Hermione walked a little briskly and managed to fall into step with Draco. They exchanged annoyed glances and trudged in silence until they reached the lodge. Inside, Bruce Marciano, the director, was seated on the lounge chair, sipping something hot from his mug. He was dressed in a pair of fleece pants; a shirt and a vest overtop and warm yellow slippers. His green eyes glistened as Draco and Hermione stepped in. Pansy had already made herself comfortable, sitting beside Bruce, sipping hot chocolate in front of the fire.

"You've made it. How was the flight?"

"It was—" Hermione began but was quickly cut off.

"Marciano, quit the small talk. When do we start filming?"

Hermione shot him a chaffed look which he ignored.

Bruce sized him up. "Tomorrow at 6:00am. You better be up by quarter to five."

Hermione stifled a groan. It was so cold she knew she'd have trouble waking up.

"6:00am? Are you kidding me? Do you know how cold it is?" exclaimed Pansy.

"What are you belly aching about? You're not even in the movie!" The words were out of Hermione's mouth before she could stop them. _Damn this cold weather_.

Pansy glared icily at her. As if it wasn't cold enough. "I'm here to support my boyfriend…. and where's your encouragement?"

Pansy didn't wait for her to answer. "Oh, that's right. He dumped you to marry a model. Personally, I think it was an improvement. You have nerve to even show your face in public after that public embarrassment. I ought to congratulate Troy on a job well done.'

The room hushed. Everyone knew she'd hit a tender spot.

Hermione glowered at Pansy viciously; you'd have thought she was getting ready to pounce on her. Instead, Hermione averted her eyes to Bruce and demanded, "Where are the keys to my room?"

"Th-they're already in your room. Just go up the elevator, on the third floor, the room at the far corner of the hall on the right. It's open. Your luggage is in there too."

With as much dignity as she could master Hermione walked toward the lift and went up.

Warm tears were flooding down her cheeks when she reached her room. She ran up the small staircase that led to her bedroom and she buckled onto her bed, weeping. Her face was obscured in the pillows and her fingers curled into taut fists.

_Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! SHIIIIIIIIIT!_

Damn it, it hurt so much. Remembering everything that had happened in the past couple of weeks was torment beyond comprehension. All the memories poured into her head and oozed into the crevices of her mind, awakening the slumbering throe; the hurt and indignation she'd masked all this time. It all emanated as salty, tart tears. She felt the need to scream until her throat scarred.

_I should've kept my mouth shut._

Slowly, she rose up and located the bathroom to spatter water in her face. She felt so forlorn it was hard to comprehend. Calling Joan would've been an option, or her parents or even one of her best mates, Ginny Potter. However, they were all busy people with their own busy lives.

Suddenly, a thought dawned on her; a small realization to be exact. She didn't have to feel sorry for herself. She had worked too hard to have someone try to put her down. This break up was not any different from all the other obstacles that had counterbalanced her emotionally. Pansy wasn't the first one to use her weaknesses against her. This was just another trial to overcome and with newborn determination Hermione knew she'd once again pass with flying colors.

She could almost picture Joan say (about Pansy) "_She's one of them cracked up bitches who try to pull everyone down, and spend half their lives throwin' back up their food trying to look decent. Shoot, I'd like to kick her bony little ass_.''

Hermione smiled. Everything was going to be all right after all…

When Draco and Pansy had retired to their room Draco had almost been furious. As much as he'd enjoyed his girlfriend's performance he realized she could've killed another chance of adding an Oscar to his cabinet and walking off with another six figured check.

"Whose side are you on anyway?" Pansy demanded.

"Don't question my loyalty to you," Draco shot back. "I don't need you messing things up."

"Messing things up? Did you hear what she said to me?"

"Technically, she was right. You're not the one who needs to rise up early."

"Oh, forgive me for trying to be there for you for your job, Draco Malfoy!"

Draco sighed. Women were impossible. If they weren't whining for money, they demanded attention.

He had been going out with Pansy for three months now- his longest relationship to date. He was having good feelings about her, but now he had to wonder …

"Babe, listen," he said, gently snaking his hand around her waist and pulling he closer to his body-something he never did in public. "Granger doesn't seem to be in the state to be reminded about he lacking in relationships…"

"What are you, her psychiatrist?"

"…because this could kill her performance in this movie. Everyone knows that. I enjoyed seeing you put her in her place, but for the sake of the movie, calm down."

He gently kissed her and looked in her eyes. "Okay?"

"Oh, all right," she grumbled, pulling away and stripping into her nightgown. "But if she aggravates me…"

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes. Why did he even bother?

Early morning everyone was jaunty and exited. It was the first day of the shooting and the energy was phenomenal at this time of hour. Hermione and Draco were whisked off to hair, make up and wardrobe, leaving Pansy sitting next to the director, who seemed anxious.

"Could someone fetch me some hot chocolate!" she demanded, nonchalant to the director's low spirits.

Minutes later Draco entered with Hermione in tow, holding sweet smelling vanilla coffee

"G'morning Draco, Hermione, how're you feeling this morning?" said Bruce anxiously.

"I'm great and very excited!" she exclaimed enthusiastically.

Bruce exchanged looks with Draco. She was acting as if last night ad never occurred.

"Perfect, that's what I like to hear."

All the equipment had been set up and both Draco and Hermione walked on to the set. They were doing a bedroom scene, using one of the accommodations at the lodge. The room was furnished as two rooms in one: with a large bed, a fireplace, a red leather love seat, glass table, and a few candles for a romantic atmosphere.

"All right, places. Hermione you're seating on the couch looking distressed. Remember, you want to create a nice sultry, but questionable atmosphere. Make sure your character displays that without expressing the emotion too literally."

They both nodded.

"All right, action!"

...>>>>>>... ...

_Veronica sat on the love seat, head bowed in her arms, looking devastated. She'd never thought everything would go awry. Ever since she'd partnered up with this devastatingly good-looking man, nothing had gone for the good. She didn't trust him._

"_It's all right, Veronica," he soothed, pouring them both wine. His back was facing her, but she didn't miss the small paper of powder he slipped into her glass. She didn't react. He sauntered toward her then knelt, handing her over the drugged wine._

"_Maybe he's gone to a better place, maybe not. We'll find the bastards who did this your father. Maybe drinking a bit will help you unwind just for tonight."_

_Veronica placed the wine beside his on the glass table. "Will you stay with me?" she asked innocently. Her index finger began tracing his jaw line then allowed her thumb to tenderly touch his bottom lip. He smiled. "Of course, but first…" he reached for the wine and gave it back to her. She grabbed his wine then pressed her lips against his own while switching the wine glasses. She pulled back and smiled, embarrassed._

"_Drink up," he urged. And she did. A thin smile fashioned his lips. He took a sip of his own. Leaning closer to her, he inhaled the scent of her dark chocolate hair. "Mmm…you smell nice."_

Goosebumps appeared on Hermione's flesh as Draco leaned and breathed on her neck. Her heart leaped and she clawed for all her strength to keep her body from reacting un-accordingly to the script.

"_Seth…"she whispered. "I don't think we should really…" Damn, what the hell was the affect of the powder he'd tried to dose her with? It didn't seem to make him pass out, only a bit aroused. His fingers slid slowly into her hair and she closed her eyes in prohibited bliss. Maybe she was wrong about him..._

Hermione's heart was in overdrive. This wasn't supposed to be happening. She was supposed to be in control of her persona and reality, yet they seemed to have merged, and now she was truly,feeling things she wasn't necessarily supposed to be feeling. She was brought out of her reverie when a female voice shouted, "Draco, no!" followed by the director's agitated voice of "Cut!"

Draco and Hermione pulled apart.

Pansy ran into he boyfriend's arms. "What the hell are you doing, Pansy?"

"Miss. Parkinson, we're trying to shoot a movie here!"exclaimed Bruce, unimpressed at the magic that had been disturbed.

"Draco, I don't want you to..." she glanced at Hermione and her face grimaced. Hermione returned the look.

"Pansy, I'm only acting. You know, pretending," he replied.

"Yea, but…" she whined. "It looked quite real. A little too real."

"That's the point?" Hermione voiced.

Pansy glared at her.

"Come on Pansy. We have to finish this," said Draco.

Pansy pulled out of Draco's embrace and glowered at Hermione. "Don't get too excited, Granger."

"I'm not the one prancing about, acting like a damsel in distress," Hermione shot back. _An ugly one at that_.

Pansy walked away without another word.

" 'Kay, we'll start when Draco is running his fingers through you hair, Hermione," Bruce shouted, all business. "Action!"

Hermione and Draco continued to play their roles as Veronica and Seth. They resumed the scene where Draco (Seth) weaved his fingers in Hermione's (Veronica) hair while she desperately searched for a way to find out the effect of the drug. As the neared the bed and Seth lowered Veronica gently on the duvet, Pansy lost it.

"This is bloody stupid. Why is this scene in here? This isn't some smutty love film. They're supposed to be enemies!" she exclaimed, outraged.

"They can't be enemies right off the bat. Seth is trying to get Veronica to travel with him in order to search for a diamond mine, but in truth there is no diamond mine. He's working for someone who kills Veronica's father and is planning to kill Veronica in order to gain access to her estate," Bruce explained wearily. "This scene is necessary because he tried to drug her with a truth potion but alas, he tasted his own concoction. Now she's trying to figure out what the drug is. That ladies and gentlemen is a plot. Seth is a hoodwink hence the name Deceit."

"I don't really care about that. I demand you rewrite this scene." She was now standing on the set near Draco, who looked ready to pop a blood vessel.

"Damn it Pansy, you're not helping. Do you know the definition of "act"?"

"I'm not stupid, Draco!"

Hermione involuntarily rolled her eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes at me!" Pansy snarled, looking chaffed.

"You're inconveniencing us," she replied.

"Shut up!"

"No, you shut up. I'm trying to do my job here and you're in the way. Why don't you go and do the thing you do best?"

"Really, and what's that?" Pansy asked, inquisitively.

Hermione smirked. "Stand on the sidelines."

Everyone's eyes were on the two women. Standing there, glaring at Pansy Hermione felt emancipated. Her inner beast was flourishing, spreading its wings and soaring. She was giving her honest opinion without feeling the least bit guilty.

Pansy's eyes averted to Draco's. "Are you gonna let her speak to me like this?"

Draco glanced at his girlfriend, then at Hermione. He was baffled by her sudden courage and regrettably he felt himself admire that. She finally showed some backbone.

"Pansy, you're giving me a headache. Stop acting like a child and start acting like an adult," said Draco. " I'm sick of this bull."

Pansy's eyes widened in righteous anger. He might as well have dropped on one knee and proposed to Hermione. "You know what? I'm sick of you. I'm taking your plane back to New York!" She then stepped up to Hermione and hissed. "You bitch, this isn't over."

"Is that a threat?"

Miss. Parkinson sneered. "Interpret it anyway you want, but I'm warning you. Watch. Your. Back." Briskly, she stormed off the set. The crew exhaled a sigh of relief.

"Don't think you've dignified yourself because of the outcome of this scenario," said Draco, turning to Hermione. His features were impassive.

"None of this would've happened if you settled with a real sophisticated, mature woman who wasn't too clingy. Personally, I believe your taste in women is perverted and repulsive."

Draco's brow rose. "Perverted? She's the same age as you and I."

Hermione chuckled. "Surely, you realize she's a twelve year old trapped in a twenty-five year old's body."

This woman was becoming a bigger pain in his ass than he'd speculated. "Who I date is none of your business. I suggest you keep your annotations to yourself."

With that said, he walked away. Bruce called for a fifteen-minute break. It was already 8:45am and they weren't getting anywhere.

Hermione joined some of the crew at the restaurant and she got a chance to call Joan, her parents and Ginny.

They commenced filming at 9:15am and stopped at 2:30pm because of the sudden blizzard that had occurred. Pansy had already left at 12:00pm after she'd had another row with Draco. He'd hoped that she had gotten caught by the stormy weather, and was probably half dead in the mountains, but obliterated that thought instantly. Pansy was his girl. Sub consciously he anticipated that she would be the one he would settle with. He had dated enough women to be the envy of all men and now he wanted to settle and ease.

It was now 6:30pm and the sky had already coated itself black. No visible stars were in sight, the snow had slowed to a gentle sprinkle and it was getting frigid by the hour. Inside his room it was warm and toasty. Draco even had his shirt off as he lay there, his muscle toned body sprawled on the bed, contemplating about the last person who meant nothing to him.

At first glance he'd thought she was a hard headed woman who had a big voice, anda bit sensitive. That had been slightly proven when Pansy had lashed out at her about Troy. It was obvious she'd given her all to the guy, to have her poor little heart torn. On television, she appeared zealous and determined and maybe she was, but to him she had the strength of a twig. Didn't anyone notice this?

He closed his gray eyes. Her smiling face from this morning materialized. Her light colored brown hair had been dyed dark, her make up flawless and the way her outfit had outlined her voluptuous body had been appealing. How had he not noticed?

His eyes fluttered open suddenly, and he sat up. He had noticed! He hadn't really _looked_ at her but he'd definitely noticed. Abruptly, his body shivered as Draco recalled the feel of her smooth neck on his lips. She'd involuntarily shivered at the skin contact and he had felt the rush of her heartbeat. Her scent had been alluring, making it easier to get into his role and forget about reality. What had she been wearing, _Coco Mademoiselle_?

"Hermione," he breathed softly.

What the hell was wrong with him? Had Pansy seen through all this feeling before he'd deciphered it? Was that her reason for being furious?

He realized he couldn't blame her because he didn't understand himself. It was as if his mind and body were suddenly aware of Hermione's beauty and sexiness. His body only reacted this way when he perceived a beautiful woman that he'd want a one night stand with, but why Hermione? He wasn't interested in her.

The feeling he was experiencing was distinct and yet not very distinct at the same time.

The real question was why her?

What did it mean?

O.0

**Thanks for the reviews. I appreciate it. Draco and Hermione are not gonna ''fall in love'' in Alaska. Next chapter something is going to happen. I'm thinking of living it a cliff hanger, but that would mean they won't return to New York until chpater 4 and i don't want to drag it that long. Hmm...decisions, decisions. Anyway, i hope you liked this chapter. **

**Oh yes, by the way, i might change the title. I hate this title now because i realized it just won't do with the way the story will be at the end.**

**Review**


	3. Chapter ThreePart One

**Chapter Three: Part I**

The morning after Pansy's departure another blizzard had occurred for two and a half weeks, ceaseless. The winds had been merciless, scourging the snow on the lodge, cars, store windows and doors, and it had reached a new octave in its high-shrilled pitch. The atmosphere had been quiet and sullen. The cast and crew found solitude in their accommodations. Hermione had spent much of her time composing two original songs for her Christmas album and two new songs she was still polishing.

Draco, however, was almost delirious. No one was there to keep him entertained, the telly wasn't working and he had read and re-read the six magazines that he had found around.

One evening, he cast his ever-growing ego aside momentarily and decided to lounge around with others who were probably sitting around the fire, telling stories. He took the lift down stairs and found the lounge warm with embers in the fire slowly fading.

"Where the hell is everyone," he voiced, glancing around and becoming aware of the placidness overwhelming him. For a brief moment loneliness shadowed his thoughts and a tinge of fear ripped through his veins. What if everyone had left him to die alone in this lodge? What if they'd all been conspiring against him all along? The entire lodge was way too silent to be inhabited by anyone else.

_Pull yourself together, Malfoy_, he scolded disgusted by his own trail of sordid thought.

Roaming around, he realized how vast the lodge was. Each room was occupied with something of importance. He tramped toward the last door at the end of the hallway. As he reached for the knob he heard soft piano playing and a sweet airy voice singing.

Vigilantly and quietly Draco pushed the door open and was welcomed into another lounge; this one furnished with a large black Marilyn piano, a deep red love seat that faced the fireplace, a glass table, portraits of people Draco didn't recognize and a small white fridge on the corner. The lights were dimmed lightly, with about eight scented candles flickering.

His gaze fell on Hermione's back. Her hair was tied in a messy bun on top of her head so he got a view of her long bare neck. She was dressed in a purple and pink pajama tank top and guessed those were matching pants.

His footsteps were light when he stepped inside and softly shut the door, leaning against the wall to listen to her song:

_As long as I shall live_

_I'll hold you dear_

_And I'll reminisce_

_Of our love all through the years_

_From now_

_Until forever and ever_

_My darling, forever_

_You will always be the only one_

_You will always be the only one._

She abruptly stopped, sighed then reached for the notebook beside her and scribbled in it.

Draco could only stare at her. Her knew her vocals were amazing, but to hear them at such close proximity was almost breathtaking. Her song was sung with such emotion and the lyrics were just as desperate. _Looks like Troy left a bigger impression than she truly lets on_, Draco thought.

Hermione flipped a page, straightened her spine and began playing. This time Draco realized she chose a different song, and as she sang it he almost fell into trance…

_I don't want a lot for Christmas_

_There's just one thing I need_

_I don't care about the presents_

_Underneath the Christmas tree_

_I just want you for my own_

_More than you could ever know_

_Make my wish come true…_

_All I want for Christmas_

_Is you…._

Draco could've sworn she was talking to him on the last bit of the song when her voice gradually dropped. At this close proximity, her words serenaded him, daring his body to go close to her and…and…

Do what? This question brought him out of his reverie causing him to stand straight.

"Darn," she whispered.

"That's not a bad song, " he stated.

The way she whipped around would've made him laugh on some other day, but instead his lips curled into a small elusive smile.

Her face went blank briefly, but recovered just as swift. She realized she hadn't spoken to him in almost two weeks. Last time they'd spoken they had not exactly left on happy terms.

"Thanks," she replied, watching him approach her. He was dressed in dark blue jeans, an indigo button up shirt and runners. "Was I playing loudly? 'Cause someone told me, I think it was Carole, the screenwriter, that this rooms was practically soundproof—"

"Ok, already," Draco chuckled.

A look of annoyance washed on Hermione's features. "Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Interrupt people when they're talking."

"Obviously because I'm not at all interested with what they have to say or I already know what they're trying to say."

"It's very rude," she said.

"I'll remember that."

Silence followed. Hermione felt ill at ease. She didn't know what to do with her hands, or where her eyes should focus on. They seemed to want to rest on his face, which looked enthralling, bathed in half the darkness and the dimmed lamp light. He caught her staring and immediately looked away, suddenly feeling flustered. Her heartbeat had increased. _He's really attractive_, she admitted to herself, _sexy even_.

"So, where's everyone." His voice sliced the silence.

"In their rooms. Have you seen the weather outside? If this weather keeps up then we're going to be here for a very, very long time."

"You sound devastated," he answered bluntly.

Hermione fought he urge to glare at him.

He leaned close to her then reached for the notebook he'd seen her scribble in.

"No, don't!" Her plea came out as a soft feeble moan. Goosebumps rippled on his arms. "You have no right to just grab my property."

"You're going to be publishing this stuff so I might as well have the honor of reading the songs first."

"They're just in little bits…. give it back!"

"Calm yourself. Is there something you don't want me to read?" His eyes explored her distressed features.

"No, but…"

"Then what're you stressing about?"

Hermione sighed and watched him skim through the book. Some of the songs she'd already made into albums, but the songs were quite deep and she knew for a fact he didn't listen to her music.

Draco stopped at a page that was titled _Miss you most (At Christmas Time):_

_The fire is burning_

_The room's all aglow_

_Outside the December wind blows_

_Away in the distance the carolers sing in the snow_

_Everybody's laughing_

_The world is celebrating_

_And everyone's so happy_

_Except for me tonight_

He looked up at her and found her eyes on him. Her soft lips parted and questioned, "What?"

His eyes dropped and he began flipping through the page. The last song's title _Breakdown_ caught his interest:

_You called yesterday_

_To basically say_

_That you cared for me, but_

_That you're just not in love_

_Immediately, I pretended to be_

_Feeling similarly_

_And led you to believe that it was_

_Ok to just walk away_

_From the one thing_

_That's unyielding and sacred to me_

_Well, I guess I'm trying to be_

_Nonchalant about it_

_And I'm going to extremes_

_To prove that I'm fine without you_

_But in reality I'm slowly losing my mind_

_Underneath the guise of smile_

_Gradually I'm dying inside_

_Friends ask me how I feel_

_And I lie convincingly_

'_Cause I don't want to reveal_

_The fact that I'm suffering_

_So, ohh, I wear my disguise _

'_Till I go home at night_

_And turn down all the lights_

_And then I breakdown and cry_

_So what do you do?_

_When somebody you're so devoted to_

_Suddenly stops loving you_

_And it seems they haven't got a clue_

_Of the pain that rejection is putting you through_

_Do you cling to your pride and sing, "I'll survive."_

_Do you lash out and say, "How dare you leave this way."_

_Do you hold on in vain as they just slip away_

Draco looked at her with such emotion that she dared not breathe. "This song…_Breakdown_…is this how you feel?"

"I—of course not! It's just a song!" Hermione exclaimed, grabbing the book back.

He motioned for her to make room on the stool and were soon both seated together, they're legs almost touching. "That bastard still makes you feel like trash?"

"Not that it's any of your business," she replied, straining to gain composure. "Why the sudden interest?"

Her tore his eyes away from her briefly. He didn't understand why he cared, but these lyrics did something to him. Of course it was just a song, but when he visualized Hermione crying and bleeding, something snapped. He didn't comprehend this feeling, but a sudden protectiveness over Hermione stirred and hollered.

"You're better off without him. You shouldn't let him make you feel like that."

Instead of asking him if he was suddenly ill (because he didn't look the type to give advice), Hermione heaved a sigh and said, "I know, but it's hard. I didn't realize I had given my all to him until he left me. And it's funny,"— she chuckled bitterly—"I'm usually in control and aware of what I'm doing. However, with Troy I tossed away some part of me…I don't know…" Hermione glanced at the window. She had promised herself she wouldn't waste energy on self-pity but she couldn't help whispering, "I guess everything was kind of my fault."

Draco's hand was pressed gently on her cheek, making her look into his eyes. "You're an intelligent woman; don't be stupid! You know you weren't to blame for what happened so don't waste your breath on pity."

As he gently stroked her cheek the atmosphere gradually fluctuated, the air sizzling with heat from the fireplace and heat being radiated by the passion swirling in their bodies. Involuntary or not, they both leaned in and their lips softly brushed. Her heart was pulsing rapidly, and his thoughts were in disarray.

_He shouldn't be kissing her_!

_She shouldn't be mentally eager to firmly press her lips onto his!_

They slowly pulled apart. The awkwardness was unbearable. "I better go," he whispered, a bit flustered.

Hermione could only nod as she watched him retreat hastily.

Her lips had merely felt like a feather in his palm; weightless, nearly non-existant. He couldn't savor her taste because it did not linger on his lips; Draco agonized as he lay in his sheets. The passion and desire that pulsed in his blood stream was ineffable. How was it possible for one being to undergo such raw emotions for someone you hardly knew? How could his body be seeking immediate and ruthless satisfaction from a kiss that had barely been a kiss?

Draco shut his eyes and tired to breathe.

Self control. He needed self-control.

* * *

Three days later the snow ceased falling and a few days following that, snow was cleared by men shoveling and using snow blowers. Bruce decided to shoot the last scene immediately and return to New York before anymore-unexpected snowstorms hit. Hermione had lost track of the days of the week so she concluded it was Thursday. She was dressed in warm clothing as she trudged up the icy path toward the cliff of the mountain, where the scene was taking place. 

As she cautiously fought for leverage on the ice, her thoughts raced back to what had happened-or almost happened-between herself and Draco. A lot of unexpected things had occurred that night. She could still feel the heat of his hands on her cheek and the ethereal touch of his lips. When he'd left, her body had raged for more intimacy, it astounded her. _But he has a girlfriend_; she kept reminding herself. _I just came out of a relationship and I don't need to be matted in somebody's web of lies._

They made it to the cliff, where the equipment had been set up. The frigid wind caressed her cheek and Hermione quivered. The sooner the scene was over, the faster she'd be out of Draco's company and back to her chaotic life.

"Alright, this is our last shot then we can call it a day and bid sayonara to this hellish weather," Bruce yelled out. His cheek had turned red and his breath came out in puffs. "Hermione, your position is near the edge of the cliff. Draco, you're behind her but out of the camera's shot. This is the last shot so make it good. I want to see a lot of emotion of confusion."

"Easier said that done," Hermione retorted. "It's like –20 degrees out here!"

"I have faith in you, Hermione," Bruce replied, to which Draco rolled his eyes. The make-up artist added a bit of chapstick on Hermione's lips, then walked away. Hermione stationed herself on the edge of the cliff. It was a long way down from where she stood. Peeping down, she saw a lot of foliage veiling the snow underneath. Her stomach turned. No one could survive a fall from here.

"You ready, Hermione?" Bruce called.

"Ready," she answered confidently.

"We're rolling. Action!"

……>>>

_Veronica was standing at the edge of the cliff, her face perplexed. "How could there be a gold mine around here? The entire land is buried in snow. It would take month to burrow through all this ice!"_

_Her body turned without the need to pivot her legs and her eyes scanned the land. "Could there actually be gold here?"_

"_There never was any gold to begin with," Seth's voice answered with intent._

_Veronica spun around to face him…._

And that's when it happened. Hermione's turn was too sharp and she never got to complete it, as her foot slid on the ice and lost her balance. Somehow her body flipped over the edge and her gloved hands managed to clasp the icy edge for a solid three seconds. In an instant, Draco appeared and grabbed her wrists. Now he was kneeling over the cliff, her dangling life in his hands. There was a lot of commotion behind him, but he couldn't sneak a peak over his shoulder because the fear in Hermione's frightened him. The position he was in terrified him.

"Draco…" she spoke, her lips quivering. He noticed the hat that had been on her head was gone. Her jaw line was traced with goosebumps and her ears were coloring.

"You won't fall, hold on."

"Incase you haven't noticed there's nothing to hold on to. You're holding me!" she exclaimed. Oh god, she didn't want to fall. Her heart was palpitating in fear, causing her to pant.

"Bruce, damn it, help!" Draco yelled. He didn't know how long he could holdher and letting go wasn't an option. Out of the corner of his eye he saw figures running around, Bruce's figure shouting out commands. A dark haired man was approaching steadily. "No, don't! We don't need you toppling over too, damn it!" Draco shouted. Fool, he seethed. His gaze returned to Hermione who was conveniently gazing past her shoulder.

"Idiot, don't look down!" He didn't mean to be harsh, but fear was enveloping his muscles. His hands were moderately slipping.

Death flashed in Hermione's eyes. Desperation was etched in her iris. Realization was brutally dawning on her. She was going to die, plain and simple. Her life was about to end and she hadn't experience everything she'd hoped to: marriage, having children, releasing a number ones C.D; the premier of her movie, being with her family and friends, figuring out Draco…

Her eyes began pooling with tears. It was all over.

The look on her face would haunt him forever, Draco knew. She was already giving up, he glimpsed it in her eyes, and at the rate his hands were slipping…

"Please don't let me fall," begged Hermione. Her fingers were becoming numb and desperation and fear paralyzed her body. She prayed she wouldn't feel the contact when she plummeted to her death.

"Don't worry, I won't. I promise. You're not going to fall," said Draco confidently. His gray eyes were becoming watery. Her plea made his heart ache. He couldn't let this woman fall.

"Mr. Malfoy, hold her a second longer. Were bringing a rope," he heard someone shout. His heart was beating frantically. "Hurry!" he grunted. "Hermione, hold on, you're not going to fall. I won't let you…YOU'RE NOT GONNA FALL!"

"Please, Draco," she pleaded one last time before her hands became silk in his hands and slipped away. Her gloves came off and a final look of devastation flashed in her eyes. Her scream silenced the frigid atmosphere.

"HEMIONE!" Draco roared. His body became immobile. He had let her fall. He had allowed his hands to slip and thus letting her plunge to her doom. Oh god, oh god! His brain registered what he'd done. Shock exploded in his body. What had he done? His first thought was to leap over the cliff and follow her; but one of the crewmembers grabbed his shoulder. "Don't be stupid!" he said. His dark brown eyes were filled with tears.

"What the hell took you so long? We could've saved her!" Draco yelled roughly standing up and almost tripping. His fingers were balled into fists, his body quavering.

"We were there," said the frail looking man. He added quietly, " If you'd just held on a second longer…"

"How the hell could I? I had a weak grip on her!" Draco exploded. It was his fault. Everyone was looking his way with horror. Some of the crew looked away in shame and Draco's knees almost buckled underneath him.

The silence that followed was deadly. Hermione Granger, world's best vocalist/actress was gone. That sentence devastated Draco.

"We're sorry," whispered Bruce who was teary eyed.

"Sorry? Sorry? She'd dead! Do you think sorry's going to bring her back? She's fucking dead!" Draco screamed, his words reverberating eerily around him. And it was his entire fault.

He turned away as tears overwhelmed him….

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**TBC**

You have no idea how hard it was to write the last bit. Even now it's not as perfect as it should be but it's the best i could do. I haven't started on Part 2 yet but look out for it next week. I was going to post both of them together but i figured since i didn't update last week, i'll post this chpater and follow up with the next installment next week...or so. **The title has changed to I STILL BELIEVE.**


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